


An Unfair Choice

by orphan_account



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:10:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she awoke, she was sitting at a metal table, handcuffed to her chair, and sitting across from a bleeding figure. A young woman, it seemed, with blood-crusted caramel hair and swollen blue eyes.<br/>“Angie?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unfair Choice

It was difficult to gage time, but Peggy assumed three days had gone by since she last saw her captors. They had locked her in a small, windowless room, only opening the door once every day or so to give her a bowl of water and occasionally a roll of bread. She still couldn’t stand properly, she was certain they’d broken her leg during their questioning, and the dehydration was beginning to affect her.

Peggy cursed herself yet again for being so foolish. The moment she saw Dorothy Underwood, she should have called for assistance. But she hadn’t been thinking, and so Peggy followed her down the street and into a trap.  Four men were waiting, all armed, and when Peggy woke up after Dottie’s blow to the head, she found herself in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair and sitting before a table of horrifying utensils.

_“Hey, Peggy!” Dottie sang in her faux-bubbly way. “Long time no see! I just have a couple questions for you, okay?”_

But Peggy had been trained for years to withstand torture. Eventually, Dottie had thrown her in a  back room and hissed that she’d be back when Peggy was ready to answer. Peggy was starting to wonder if the dehydration would kill her before Dottie decided to resume questioning.

For the first time in hours, Peggy heard movement outside the door. At first, she thought she was merely being brought another bowl of water, but the door swung completely open and light flooded her makeshift cell. It blinded her for a moment, after being in darkness for so long, and caused her head to spin in pain.

“Morning, Peggy,” Dottie said cheerily. “I think you’re going to be ready to talk now.”

Two men pulled her upright, and held her in front of Underwood. She still couldn’t make out features perfectly, but Peggy recognized the terrible, fake smile of the Russian. In a moment of absolute stupidity, Peggy used what little energy and saliva she had to spit in her torturer’s face. The ugly smirk disappeared from Dottie’s face for a moment.

“Bitch,” Dottie hissed as she wiped off her cheek. “You really didn’t want to do that.”

Peggy was knocked unconscious from the force of the slap. When she awoke, she was sitting at a metal table, handcuffed to her chair, and sitting across from a bleeding figure. A young woman, it seemed, with blood-crusted caramel hair and swollen blue eyes.

“Angie?” she whispered, praying it wasn’t true. But as her vision came back to her, she could properly see her friend sitting across from her with what appeared to be a broken eye socket. There was a deep cut on her forehead and blood was trickling down her face, mingled with tears.

Dottie walked behind Angie and placed her chin on the top of the young woman’s head. “What do you think? You ready to talk?”

“Peggy,” Angie sobbed, “Don’t.”

The Russian sighed dramatically and shushed her. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” she admitted. “But I think you know what will happen if you don’t.”

They would kill Angie. The bright-eyed, constantly smiling, overly optimistic and talkative woman Peggy had completely fallen in love with. The very reason she woke up in the morning. The only person since Steve who made her heart skip a beat and forget the horrors she’d seen in the war and since.

“I…” Peggy couldn’t finish the sentence. She knew what she had to do, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Angie was staring at her with watery eyes and Peggy wondered what they had done to her. Her blood boiled at the thought that anyone could hurt the girl. But it was her fault Angie was in this position. If she hadn’t gone to the L&L, hadn’t moved into the Griffith, hadn’t become friends, hadn’t asked her to move into Howard’s mansion, hadn’t kissed her that one night, hadn’t… There were so many times Peggy should have cut Angie out of her life, and the consequences of not doing so were staring her in the face.

“Kill me,” Peggy pleaded. “You gain nothing by hurting her. Please, kill me.”

Dottie laughed bitterly and shook her head. “No.”

“You know you—” Angie started, but Dottie hit her in the back of the head and the young woman slumped in her chair unconscious.

“Ruins some of the drama,” the Russian muttered under her breath, “But she just couldn’t stay quiet, could she?”

“Please,” Peggy begged once again, realizing the futileness of it. She knew what her choice was, but that didn’t make it any easier. The blood from Angie’s forehead was running down so quickly. There was so much blood.

“Say it,” Dottie ordered. “You know what you need to say.”

Peggy’s vision went askew once again, this time because of the tears. “I can’t.”

There was a long pause. “Fine.”

Dottie pulled out a small pistol and head it up to Angie’s head. Peggy closed her eyes tightly, her entire being shaking, and tried to block out all sound. At least Angie was asleep. She wouldn’t be awake to feel the barrel of the gun or hear the sound of the trigger. It would be quick and painless.

“Are you sure you have nothing you’d like to say?”

Peggy bit her bottom lip so forcefully that she drew blood. A moment passed, and she heard Dottie pull the trigger. The horrid sound echoed throughout the warehouse, and Peggy felt herself die inside. It was worse than when Steve had died — Peggy might have failed to protect him, but his death hadn’t been her direct doing. It was her fault that Angie was gone.

“Kill me,” she whispered. She opened her eyes to see Angie’s body slack in the chair. It was a clean death, but the fact didn’t ease any of Peggy’s pain. “Kill me.”

“But we’re having so much fun here!”

“Kill me!” Peggy screamed, fighting her restraints and trying to reach Angie’s murderer. “Kill me!”

The sound of the trigger being pulled again was like music to her ears, until Peggy realized the gun hadn’t been aimed at her. One of Dottie’s associates was lying on the ground dead, and the noise of bullets filled the air as SSR agents entered the room. Peggy could barely hear any of it, though. Even when Dottie fled from the room unscathed, even when Sousa unlocked her from her restraints — none of it registered.

Peggy stumbled on her broken limbs, completely unaware of the pain, to where Angie’s body was. “Angie,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I am so sorry.”

She should have lied. She should have done anything to delay Dottie, but instead she had stayed quiet while Dottie pulled the trigger. If she had waited even a minute longer, then Angie would still be in her arms, however beaten.

Peggy screamed. She screamed until her throat was raw and no noise came out. She screamed until Sousa pulled her away from the young woman’s body and covered it with his jacket. She screamed until she was pulled into sleep by a body that could hardly function any longer.

Angie was dead. Angie was dead and it was her fault.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! Thank you for reading!


End file.
